Dark Wizard Tournament- The Goblet of Darkness
by Galleons 'n'Gold
Summary: Harry decides to travel back in time to have some fun. Time Travel. MoD.
1. Prologue

A/N: Pretty much what the title says.

Disclaimer: Just a plot bunny that decided to burrow in my mind. Now it has a solid place to stay! Don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

It all started with the Triwizard Tournament. I know what you are thinking. Not _that_ one; where I- a shy, innocent adolescent wizard took part in. Not one where everyone ganged up on me one moment and loved me to bits the other. No, I'm certainly not talking about that, right now.

Hermione Granger, in her infinite wisdom and anal retentiveness declared, that the Triwizard Tournament should once again be revived with appropriate adjustments be made to '_ensure__ that none of the accidents happen like before.'_

God, I can still hear her snooty voice. I honestly tried. _Honestly! _I tried to tell them that not to do it. When they didn't listen, I _begged _them not place 'Goblet of Fire' as an impartial judge.

God, I can _still _hear her annoying voice. '_Proper traditions must be followed'. _Had been her reply. Anal retentive bitch!

And so, I watched with bitter amusement the proceedings to the first task, the second and the third. Death swooped in like predator. Indiscriminate in her choosing and killing all three participants. I wanted to be all smug to go about telling them. _I told you so! _But I couldn't bring myself to do that.

I knew Goblet of Fire like no one else. Fifty years. That's the time I had dedicated studying enchantments and curses and other things like binding magical oaths and such. The things that purebloods took for granted and no one ever bothered to tell first generation witches and wizards.

That was what they were calling muggleborns now.

Lot of things had changed over the course of seventy years. Pureblood faction had mellowed out when their kids couldn't produce a single heir. Funny how that changes things. Funnier was riling them up and getting them to confess that they were wrong about the whole thing. I could see their constipated faces in their wedding photographs. Made me laugh everytime.

But it was done.

Hermione had taken her studies with renewed vigor and had masteries in three subjects. Three! Personally, the Potions one was just to mock me. The whole Voldemort dying thing and discovering things that I never wanted to discover about Potion Master Severus Snape.

Hermione had acted all smug and rubbed it in my face how narrow vision I had in my entire life.

OF COURSE I HAD NARROW VISION! I HAD A MURDEROUS DARK WIZARD TRYING TO KILL ME! I had replied back and stormed to Gryffindor room and that's where I found the three things I clearly remember throwing them away.

The broken wand was no longer broken, nor the ring. I clearly remember putting cloak inside my trunk.

A year passed and I came to know my friends in much, much detail. They had cashed in on their fame and fortune. Ron, twisting and turning stories, much like he did in the third year. By his account, I wouldn't be alive if he hadn't saved me in the frozen lake. It was true but the way he told it, I was all but an insignificant thing who only delivered the last blow to Voldemort while he did the rest.

Perhaps it was better, now that Ron had found fame and boat load of girls giggling about around his arms. I thought at first. But then, they just left me behind. Like I was a thing they didn't need it anymore. The other thing I found in a year's time was that the potions had stopped affecting me entirely. I discovered that when I found Ginny bemoaning to Molly Weasley about 'How _it_ wasn't working!'

Call me slow. But that's when I really started questioning my friends. When I discovered their entire plot, I got down on my knees and thanked, 'the powers that be' that I wasn't a puppet obeying Ginny's every command.

And that's when I discovered that I was the Master of Death. I had imagined, expected someone. Man, women, someone. Instead, a powerful wave filled my senses.

Strong ancient and unyielding.

Five years passed. I already regretted coming clean about why potions didn't work on me. Hermione and I had a huge row. I had to be all smug and snarky to her. I wanted to rub it in her face, you see! The answer to the question she was quietly researching for past three years. My Magic. And I told her so. My magic was so deathly, that it destroyed anything and everything foreign. The only way for them to work was to include a part of my blood in potion making.

Don't ask me how that works. But apparently it just does! Spells, potions and even wards broke if I really wanted to. She accused me of going dark and using Blood Magic. It escalated further from there. Things were said that weren't meant to be spoken out.

Ten years passed. Hermione Granger had become Headmistress. Ronald Weasley had become the Head of Auror Corps and Ginny Weasley had become the star seeker for Holyhead Harpies. Naturally, all three were against me and created all sorts of problems which I didn't expect.

Patience was a virtue I had long learnt when dealing with them. I didn't do anything against them but didn't give an inch of satisfaction to them either. At the end of it, I viewed all of this as a childish squabble and I decided it was time for Harry Potter to die. Purebloods wanted it, my friends wanted it and even I had begun wishing it so.

Last I heard was some law purebloods were trying to pass to acquire the gold in my vaults.

In came Harrison Evans. Funny how a name change would let the world see you in completely different light. Funnier was Hermione Granger requesting my 'expertise' in many of enchanted items in Hogwarts.

Which brings me to the Triwizard Tournament and the Goblet of Fire. I tried to tell them. I really did. That things was filled with so many enchantments and wild magic that it was an entity on its own. She was a basic bitch on most days and downright nasty near Halloween. When students died, people wanted a scapegoat.

Any guesses?

I haven't really understood what drives the herd mentality but fuck it! After seventy years, I snapped and decided to fuck with the whole of Wizarding World. And that's when I had a nasty idea. The kind which made me cackle with unholy glee. If I could go back in time, to the original tournament, what would I do instead?

* * *

Harry closed his journal and looked at out of window. The train began to slow down. He could see Hogsmeade village around and he let a feral smile plaster on his face. This was going to be so much fun!

'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire!' He thought as he made up an proper title, thinking about what heading he should give to this page entry.

'No.' He shook his head and another came into the mind. 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Darkness!'

'Good enough.' His mind nudged back but he really wasn't feeling it. 'Dark Wizard Tournament- The Goblet of Darkness!'

"Yes!" Harry shouted out, and cackled once more and thought about his past seventy years. _Or was it the future of past seventy years? Or past of future seventy years..._

It didn't matter which way one would look at it because he was about to fuck it all up!

* * *

A/N: Love it? Have some suggestions? Leave it in review!


	2. Plans afoot!

A/N: Thanks for all the review I got, the favorites and followers. I am happy. I didn't have time to respond to reviews but I read all of them. Thankyou!

* * *

"Harry where were you? We were so worried!" Harry turned around, and saw the pair of them. Ronald Weasley had that look on his face as if he, Harry was some renegade child unable to find his way in the vast wizarding world without his support and Hermione, with her frizzy hair all around her gave an accusing stare which demanded answers from him. The old Harry would've been frightened and somewhat distraught to have disappoint his friends but he wasn't one.

Plus they were _kids! _

After seventy years, nothing fazed him much. Also, Dumbledore's conditioning had pretty much left him and so did his neediness of friends.

"Yeah mate! She wouldn't shut up about it!" Ron added his two cents. Hermione turned and smacked him lightly on his shoulders. Harry watched the by-play with obvious enjoyment.

'Trust me. I know the feeling!' Harry thought and smiled at Ron. "I was right there all along. I figured you were too busy with each other."

"We… I… What are you saying!?" Hermione spluttered indignantly while Ron just looked confused.

"So Ron. Who do you think will win Quidditch League this year?"

"I think Cannons have a real shot this time!" Ron said seriously. Harry heard Seamus snort out loud and Ron turned to argue facts with them.

'One problem out of the way.' Harry thought with amusement. 'Honestly! They were such easy to manipulate. No doubt Dumbledore couldn't resist not doing the same.'

"Harry we couldn't find you! How could you be so inconsiderate?" Harry gave a sigh and massaged his temples. There was the tone he am so familiar with! The tone which never failed to grate his nerves whenever she spoke. For a moment he thought about egging her on, thinking about bringing out her anal retentive voice but thought otherwise.

"Malfoy must've charmed it!" Harry said off-handedly.

"That foul git!" Ron said suddenly, pitching in.

"Stinking Slytherin!" Harry joined too.

"Language Ronald! Harry!" Hermione turned, "You shouldn't accuse anyone like that without proof!"

"Who needs proof?" Ron snorted, "Its _Malfoy, _Hermione. How can you be so daft!" Harry sniggered and looked around once again, tuning out most of the one sided conversation. Contrary to what people thought, Ron and Hermione complimented each other in weird sort of way.

'Dumbledore's announcement in three, two one-' Sure enough, Dumbledore stood up, smiling grandfatherly at students sitting in Great Hall.

'O Dumbldore you cold bastard.' Harry thought. 'How have I missed you.'

The speech went on just like Harry remembered. The outrage at cancelled Quidditch Cup and the announcement of Triwizard tournament.

'Enter Mad-eye-Moody.' Harry thought suddenly and looked towards the door. Sure enough, there he was, in all his fakeness limping forward towards the staff table.

He politely joined in the applause, smiling nastily back at him.

'Just you wait, Barty, Dumbledore. I'll never have so much fun as you had screwing with me.'

* * *

I have always admired Lord Voldemort; always being a relative term here. Not for the first twenty years of my life and not for the havoc he wreaked on the people. His ideals are unrealistic and foolhardy. Ridding the world of Muggles, indeed! He forgets that muggles gives us muggleborns. A fixed population would limit the gene pool and eventually give birth to child that only a mother could love. A mother blind in one eye and has the milky whiteness in another.

I know, I've seen them! It was like looking at Crookshanks when she had shed all of his hair. Yes! The Notts had the most horrid Gollum of a child I could think off.

Voldmort was a broken child, if not when he entered Hogwarts. Being thrown in Snakes nest would not have helped matters in the least. Where I only knew love and adoration, he knew only hatred and disgust- something he was so familiar with it. Knowing only the dark aspect for so long in the snakes den would definitely harden anyone's mind.

I wonder if he vowed that all Purebloods would bow at his feet and he would lord over them. I think he did vow it, and accomplished what he had set to do; with sheer will and hatred burning in his heart. He did it- Accomplished what he had promised to do when he was young. And Purebloods bowed reverently at feet of a muggleborn not knowing his true origins! It was glorious! Even if he went insane doing it.

Things purebloods give so much precedence over morality and humanity- lure of Darkness, the excessive importance to tradition and taking magic for granted. All Voldemort had to ever sacrifice was compassion and love- things Voldemort had very little to begin with.

He wouldn't have so much trouble establishing himself as a new lord.

A name could do so much for Voldemort just as it had done for me. The wizards of Britain are sheep and Voldemort conquered them easily. They weren't familiar with the terror and tragedy of Gellert or had the courage of the French when they decided to take appropriate actions against fierce Dark Lady Mistral.

Where people cower to speak the name of Voldemort they shall not feel _worthy_ of speaking mine. I shall a Light Lord from which the light shines so bright that it would blind their mind. Besides, there was a special brand of Darkness in it as well.

Harry closed his diary and walked upto the mirror watching with interest his intense green eyes. With calm measured breaths, he closed his eyes and opened them once again. A slight twinkle emerged in his eyes and he smiled in joy. Dumbledore was his mentor now, and Harry was determined to learn all from watching him. This branch of magic capable of affecting wizard auras. A manipulation subtler than mind magics but incredibly effective on young students.

* * *

There was an obvious air of depression when students from Gryffindor sat down in the Great Hall. It was clear on everyone's face what they had gone through. Harry felt a headache coming on, which surprisingly he never had in future.

Whatever sympathy and feelings Harry could fell for Snape disappeared after a period in the Dungeons. Slytherins were smiling and chatting happily as if, they had learnt a great deal of things. Crabbe and Goyle too, were having fun.

"It's okay, Neville." Harry said consolingly channeling some of his twinkle.

"I'm rubbish at Potions." He moaned out, unable to handle the insults dolt out by Snape. "Gran's going to be pissed." He whimpered.

"No matter what you do Neville, Snape's never going to help or praise you about your skills." Harry said softly. Funny how petty rivalry could turn out so bitter when people grow up. Longbottoms were never one for bullying Slytherins but even then Neville was constantly belittled by him.

"I learn and memorize every process. He makes me so afraid. When he comes closer, I just stop thinking! What can I do?"

"Make him fear you." Harry said suddenly, softly. He looked in Neville's eyes and clarified. "You are known for causing explosions Neville. Use it to your advantage."

"But I…I don't know how." Neville's eyes looked around fearfully. Harry knew Neville didn't have a backbone yet. He was desperately searching for a way out.

"But you know what mistakes you do." Harry smiled when he shakily nod his head. "Look at them, Neville. Laughing and enjoying themselves. Their parents and our parents were classmates with Snape. He can find it in his heart to be good with Death Eater spawns but not with us? Our parents who fought and defeated the Dark side? Our parents sacrificed themselves so that we could have a good future. Snape sees to it that only Slytherins get good grades and we get nothing! He is insulting our parent's memories, and our heritage." His twinkle increased so did the passion in his voice, forcing Neville to evaluate what he was saying.

"They were all innocents, the Ministry said so." Neville whispered softly.

"We know differently. Your Gran knows differently. Look how badly the light side is treated even when we won the war." Harry gestured around his friends. "Can you imagine what would've happened if the Dark side had won? If we won't stand up then they have already won! Without Voldemort!"

Harry saw something set in Neville's eyes and he knew he had got through.

"What about our classmates?"

"Just leave it to me. Don't worry Neville, you are not alone in this." Harry gave a half-hug and left.

The next morning in the Gryffindor common room, there was a note written in colorful handwriting.

"500 galleons to the brave Gryffindor who pranks Snape and Slytherins for the whole month!" Neville met Harry's eye and Harry gave a tentative smile back.

His entertainment till Halloween was set.

* * *

"Today we'll be learning about the Unforgivable Curses." Moody's eye swirled around the class. "Now I know the Ministry don't want yer to know about this things but I SAY OTHERWISE! And if anyone has a problem with this class the DOOR IS RIGHT BEHIND YOU!"

Moody and the rest of the class was shocked to see Harry Potter get up and walk away.

"Look at him boys and girls! Potter is wee bit scared of Unforgivible curses." Moody licked his lips goading him in.

Harry took an exaggerated sigh and looked with a face full of disappointment, "I'm sorry Professor Moody. I do not wish to be tainted by darkness. I am a student of light." Harry stated and walked away. A moment later, all of Gryffindors walked away and Slytherins scurried from their seats as well.

* * *

Before Harry knew it, it was the day before the Halloween. In all the mayhem unleashed by the pranks in the previous month had never been so fulfilling. All sorts of pranks had sprung up, on the first day and Harry felt generous enough to give ten galleons to Lee Jordan, just to prove the point. His heart was filled with joy seeing the Slytherins cower and the ingenuity of the pranks by various people. The proud winner of the bet were the four Weasleys. Harry had never seen Hermione so uppity as she had been in all this month. Neville Longbottom had never received such loud reception the day he blew up the Potions classroom, putting Severus Snape in hospital wing with bunch of Slytherins.

Harry felt bad seeing Neville crying out, apologizing to Snape, whose eye twitched ever so slightly when Neville would burst out in another fit. Dumbledore whispered comforting words to Neville seeing him so distraught and weeping over broken Snape that he had to forgive him.

After all, anyone could ask for forgiveness from Snape was definitely light sided. That incident had inspired Neville to become better in his potions and Snape to improve his teaching methods.

Of course no one knew it was him who wanted the mayhem. Such things had kept focus off of him. It was funny to see Hermione trying to piece out what was different about Harry one moment while screaming and complaining to prefects the next.

Ron was too busy trying to come up with ways to prank Slytherins to care about his 'Friend'. He had went decidedly cold after reading the surface thoughts of the youngest bunch in Weasley group. And so, he gave all the money to twins instead of them. Last he heard, there was a severe discord amongst the bunch of them.

All was not well with Harry as the merging of the two bodies had the sudden effect of puberty sneaking up on him once again. The effect of various potions had faded over the period of time and Harry was left with a raging erection every morning! It was like the two years of development had rushed to establish itself in his psyche.

He'd thought Dumbledore wouldn't go so deep as to control _his _time of puberty but oh well… He had buried that pit long time ago. The deathly magic was doing its thing, taking care of any and all potions in his food.

He stole a look at the feathered trio at the Gryffindor table- Angelina Johnson, Kate bell and Alicia Spinnet. Lusting after fifteen year olds was a bit awkward but seventh year girls were a fair game. Angelina had lost some of the chubby fat making her more beautiful and filled in places his eyes were currently taking in the sights.

The most beautiful of the trio was Alicia Spinnet. Her face sparkled with youthful energy and the hair cascaded down revealing a short neck line which made Harry bite his lips. Just below was the largest stuffing that made him curl his hands. The feathered trio, indeed!

'_Rip tear fuck' _Harry's one eyed snake hissed out and Harry adjusted his garments to make him more comfortable.

He tore his eyes away from them when they turned giving him a knowing look and giggling among each other. He was mortified. What were they laughing about? Was something on his face? Did someone hexed him? He ran a hand over his robes just to check if something was missing, ironing out the tiny creases in it.

It was nothing but then why were they laughing?

Half way through the Halloween feast Harry smelled a familiar floral scent in the air.

"Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" Harry looked toward the voice and found it belonged to a blue robed Beauxbatons student. She had long silvery-blonde hair that fell almost to her waist. Her eyes were deep blue and her even teeth were brilliant white. Harry saw she was interested in the bowl of stew Hermione had described earlier simultaneously showing off her knowledge. It was full and no one was interested in it.

"We can share it." Harry said with an easy smile. The stone bench became friction-less and Harry gave a small shove in left direction, making additional space. From the extreme left, Harry could hear a surprised yelp as Seamus fell down.

"And you are Miss?" Harry said smoothly once she sat down.

"Miss Delacour." Came the smooth haughty response from her. Harry could sense a little irritation from her and sought to put her at ease.

"Harry Potter." Harry paused and then continued, "I've always wanted to taste foreign cuisine." Harry said, taking some of the Bulia-thing.

"French food iz so better zen Eenglish." She said and straightened and Harry could see the blue fabric straining against the air bags. The white milky complexion of skin was incredibly easy on the eyes as well.

'Make that C cup.' Harry thought looking at them before resuming eating. The effect of allure was somewhat diminished for him compared to the rest of the people. But Harry couldn't deny that she was a goddess when it came to looks.

"Sorry Ronald." Harry poked the fork deliberately when he tried to steal a dish full off food. Harry looked at the French girls sitting at the Ravenclaw table looking at Fleur with hostility. They looked cute when they were angry.

"Yum." Harry spoke out loud, eyeing the girls.

"I'm glad you liked it Monsieur Potter." Fleur got a delighted expression on her face and began telling all about the French food and Harry listened intently praising some of it. It was really good, and it made him wonder why hadn't he moved out of Britain after the war was over?

Oh that's right! The ministry always found reasons to keep him stay. There possibility of another Dark Wizard or the dark creatures acting out or Ronald telling him 'Not to leave the Country' due to some trumped up charges. There was also Ginny who had ruined his three years.

Her giggles brought him out of thought and Harry smiled with her. "I must sample the rest of the French cuisine, although, not all of English food is bad, Miss Delacour. You must try the Treacle Tart." Harry pointed at the shortcrust pastry, snatching out before Ron could get hands on it. "It is simply delicious."

"Please, call me Fleur." Fleur moaned as the mixture of golden syrup and bits of breadcrumbs melt in her mouth.

"And you can call me Harry." Harry gave a nod. 'That's it.' Harry resolved, 'No Weasley will have such beautiful girl.'

Harry got up, helping Fleur to her feet and swept an eye over the entire Great Hall. Half the girls were fuming in her seats and the feathered trio looked murderously at Fleur.

"Wishing you all the best for tomorrow, Mademoiselle Delacour." Harry kissed her on her wrist and bade adieu to the group.

* * *

The cold crisp air brushed off the hair off his face as Harry looked at a distant grounds surrounding the castle. Hedwig was perched on his shoulder, taking the view with him.

"Will you take these?" Harry offered two parchment sealed with Peverell's coat of arms. The black Peverell's signet ring in his left hand.

"Hoot." Hedwig's head swirled as she barked an affirmative.

"The band will protect you from the wards. Be in and out quickly, don't be seen. Don't linger around at all." He had put so much effort to pull it together. Ensuring that the Goblet would dance at his whims. Procuring the signatures of the participants and the most important of all, the signatures of Ministry officials including Ministers of Magic.

Hedwig bobbed her head and nipped his ear before she flew away.

* * *

A/N: Before anyone gives grief for calling Voldemort a Muggleborn, let me explain! It was inferred in Half-Blood Prince that Menrope was probably a Squib!(I have taken that assumption!) I don't consider child of Squib and a muggle as a Half-Blood!

A/N: This chapter took more time to complete as I didn't know how to move forward. This chapter sets a stage for the next chapters to come and by now things are pretty much clear what Harry's going to do, who's he going to involve. Please leave some suggestions as How would you like Harry to fuck it all up in a review or in PM. I would seriously like to hear from you. Seriously! Leave a review! Any suggestions or comments! Review!


	3. Prison Break!

A/N: I got quite a few reviews concerning the 'Status' of Menerope. I was simply stating how the world viewed her. Not Dumbledore's observations or any of that sort. Like Neville's almost a squib(As said in first year). And it isn't said that Menerope attended Hogwarts. Lily did and so did Neville. But anyways, I did kind off, forget the exact quotes in the book. Anyways... More of perception thing, basically. Heh.

I've tried to include some humor. Despite a dark overtone to it, please take it lightly. I don't intend to make this a full-fledged story and it shall most probably, complete in four to five chapters.

Now, onwards!

* * *

Pale blue eyes stared uncomprehendingly back at the ember yellow ones. The wet, sweaty appearance and the stench in the room didn't faze Hedwig one bit. With a flap of wings, a letter flew from a small breast pocket and landed on the person's lap.

The person's eyes widened when he looked at the insignia but had little time to look back at the messenger bird, only to see it fly away. With trembling hands, Gellert Grindelwald stood up, feeling the oppressive magic in the walls, bending down on him as he clenched the letter tightly in his hands.

"This is interesting." A person from outside extended his arm. His fingers gripped the letter tightly, rubbing the smudge of grime and dust off the letter, leaving fine finger prints behind. With a careful eye, he tore the seal away and read the contents, his eye lingering on the symbol representing the deathly hallows.

"Well, dear Gellert." Bright blue eyes glinted ominously, and a cruel smile lit across his face. The parchment rolled itself in air and the man deftly caught it, pushing it in his breast pocket. His black coat whipped around, waving against sudden wind in the prison hallway. "It seems we finally have a way to get out of this wretched prison." He said, opening the prison door and dragging the man out. "And you shall test it for me, my dear human construct. We shall see this Lord Peverell and if he holds them." By the end of it, Gellert Grindallwald was mumbling to himself.

The man responded back. "Ja."

* * *

The said boy's head was resting in a very soft fleshy cushion, not caring in the slightest of the sudden chill in his spine. Instead, he chose to adjust his… umm… bits to a more proper place, having that goofy smile fixed on his face. Alicia Spinnet was indeed soft and delicate like a feather!

* * *

The morning dawned over, and students gathered in the Great Hall. Some loud and cheerful and some still shaking off the sleep in their eyes. Ronald Weasley was ofcourse an exception. Last night's party had run well into the night and they had so much fun! But the morning had come too soon and he was glad that today was a holiday. And so, his hands roamed around the table, grabbing whatever they could find and stuffing it inside his mouth.

Hermione scrunched up her nose and turned around to complain to her other friend. "Honestly-" She blinked owlishly when she found him writing something in some strange parchment. Instantly, she peered over, her head hovering just above Harry's left shoulder, seeing what he was doing. "Is that a Obfuscation charm on the parchment?" She asked curiously.

"Hmm." Harry replied, not bothered in the slightest. True to Harry's prediction, Mad-Brained Bartimous Crouch Jr, had cast the confundous charm on the cup and deposited a piece of paper inside goblet. He was now penning down the death sentence, making goblet aware of what Bartemius Crouch Jr, had done to her.

The results would be interesting to see, first hand.

"You know how to cast Obfuscation charm?" Her voice rose a pitch above normal.

"Hmm." Harry nodded. He could clearly see gears turning in Hermione's mind and decided to put a stop at it right now. "Yummy." Harry commented and took another bit of the chocolate flavoured bread. "Elves have truly outdone themselves!"

Hermione opened her mouth but stilled for a moment.

"Elves make this food?" Aha! Harry crowed.

"Oh yes!" Ron mumbled out, shoving the food into his mouth.

"How can you eat that food?" Hermione said firmly, giving all attention to Ron. "It is slavery!" Ron halted just short of taking the byte of the juicy piece of meat. Comically, he shrugged and tore into it once again. Hermione pushed her plate back and stormed off, presumably to library. Harry noted that that particular conversation didn't happen in the Welcoming Feast but now.

For a moment he wondered the possible implication of the 'Butter-fly effect and the impact it might have on time-line. But then, with a comic shrug of his shoulders, he began eating food once again.

* * *

The delegations from the two countries had settled down in the Great Hall, much like Harry remembered them. The obvious exception was the 'Feathered Trio' who sat opposite to Harry and engaged in whispered conversations among themselves. Alicia was playing a footsie with Harry and Harry was eagerly returning flirtations back, all the while sending playful winks to Angelina.

Obviously, these three were much too close, considering the teasing Alicia had received throughout the day. But the blush on Alicia's face was not due to teasing of the other two, not in this case anyways.

Well, apart from them, Ron and Hermione sat a bit far from him, and so did the other Weasleys, with the exception of Ginny. It seemed that the rift among them hadn't been settled yet.

The dinner came to an end, and Dumbledore rose from his seat. The hushed expectation and excitement became more pronounced. With an impressive display of wand-less magic, Dumbledore quenched the flames surrounding the Great Hall and Harry looked up, seeing the night sky clearer than before.

"The Goblet is ready to make its decision." Dumbledore's murmuring carried across the Hall, "One or two minutes at best."

Harry let his hands touch the table and drew a figure of eight lightly on it. He could sense the parchment flaring up inside his pocket. He drew another, the number one, for Durmstrang and then the zero for his special entry.

The goblet let out a strand of fire. FWOOSH!

Off the parchment went, in the air, gliding down slowly.

"And the Champion from Durmstrang is-" Dumbledore's hand snatched it out of hair as he opened it slowly, letting the anticipation grow. Harry could see how restless the Durmstrang crowed grew and he too, grew restless.

If this failed, then the backup plan was to blow up the-

He didn't get to finish that particular thought as a pained cry, almost a whisper came from Dumbledore. "No…" The showmanship wasn't there in anymore. In place of it, was a stony mask, glaring down at the Goblet of Fire. "This is unacceptable." He continued in the same dead serious tone.

Murmurings grew tenfold after that statement.

"What is it! Who is it ALBUS?" Karkaroff yelled, seeing Dumbledore pointing his wand at the goblet. Seeing the parchment hanging between Dumbledore's thumb and finger, he snatched yelled out a startled shriek.

By now, distinguished members from the Ministry of Magic had climbed down and so did Mad-Brained Barty Jr. In all the commotion, no one saw Harry whisper a single word. A word, spoken with such intensity, and such sense of possession that could have made anyone run off in another direction.

"Mine…"

Predictably, the Dumbledore's wand let out a weak spell, only to be blocked by the protective magics surrounding the Goblet. In retaliation, goblet let out a dense pulse of energy, and all the teachers and adults were blown off their feet.

The goblet spewed out remaining two names, one of Beauxbatons and the other of Hogwarts. Students, rushed forward to grab the piece of parchment. One of them fell in Neville's lap and he opened out.

"What does it say Neville?" Hermione gave a shout over the commotion.

"The Hogwarts Champion is Tom Marvollo Riddle." He said speaking each word with a pause, "Also known as Lord Vol-V-V-V-V" Hermione looked at Harry and Harry asked Neville in an urgent tone.

"Is it Voldemort?" At that, Neville's eyes rolled back in his head and he promptly fell down. Hermione rushed to help Neville and so did other students. Harry did all he could to suppress the evil chuckles, holding them inside. The fear, the anarchy and the total loss of composure of the 'respected members' in the school.

"Mistrall? Which one of you is Madam Mistrall?" Harry covered a burst of laughter with a choked snort, seeing Anthony Goldstien questioning the rapidly paling group of Beauxbatons girls.

He had pulled it off.

Dumbledore had managed to get a hold of the situation, and collected back the pieces of parchment. Just when, he was about to dismiss the students and call the teachers to his office, the goblet flared, once again.

'What now...' Dumbledore thought, and so did the rest of them as they looked at the Goblet with weariness.

A single parchment flew up and Dumbledore caught it before anyone could, and tell out the name of one Harry James Potter.

* * *

Madam Mistrall dodged another stray curse, and cursed as it nicked off some of her red hair. Her weapon wasn't combat ready, yet, and she had to rely on her flexible body, and her skillful acrobatic moves to dodge out of the spellfire. Considering she was locked up for over 20 years that was a very tough thing to do. All she had to do was cross the port-key ward and hope that the letter would take her out of here.

And when she met that man, she would make sure she showed her displeasure, very clearly.

* * *

Harry was examining in detail various gold trinkets lying around with a keen eye. In the background, he could hear the fireplace crinkling and the distant shuffles of footsteps of students exiting the Great Hall.

He pushed his glasses up, making them reflect the bright orange light. With a loud thump, the door opened and in came Dumbledore, with various headmasters in tow. Dumbledore grabbed him by the shoulders and stared right in his eyes.

"Harry, did you put your name in the Goblet of fire?" His tone was soft, and yet, there was a demand in it.

"Oh. Quit bothering him Albus. Obviously he did not!" Igor Karkaroff muttered offhandedly.

"Potter has a penchant to cause trouble, if the previous three years are any indication." Came the voice of Severus Snape. "But, for this instance, he neither has skill nor aptitude, to do this sort of mischief." He sneered in his general direction.

"This is most un-nerving, Albus. Surely, Harry cannot be allowed to compete, with these… these… monsters!" Minerva said. Madame Maxime didn't say anything. Harry couldn't distinguish between her pale visage in the first place.

"The contract, with the Goblet of Fire is binding. Once, the name comes out of the fire, they are contractually obliged to compete!" Bartemius Crouch said in his uptight voice.

"Bartemius" Dumbledore said, quelling protests from around. "We must find the culprit behind these most vile plot."

"But professor!" Harry said out loud, "I don't want to participate!"

"Now Harry-" Dumbledore sought to placate him.

"No!" Harry folded his hands over his chest and scowled. "This happens every year! First it was that ghostly Voldemort thingy! The second year it was the Chamber of Secrets with Basilisk thing! The third year it was Sirius Black, and then there was the Defense against the Dark Arts Professor, who turned werewolf!" He said waving his hands around. "The defense against the Dark Arts…" He mumbled, and his eyes widened comically.

"You!" Harry pointed an accusing finger at Mad-eye Moody. "It is you!" He thrust his hand forward. "You did all this!"

"Hmm… Is this poly-juice I smell, Alastor?" Severus snatched the hip-flask.

"You…You… CHEATER!" Harry shouted indignantly. "You think this is amusing?! Well, the choke's on you!" Thankfully, no one noticed a slight slip of tongue by him. They all had their wands out firing spells. It looked like someone had let a firecracker inside the room. A Chinese one with bright red green explosions at that.

"Well." The bound, upside-down Moody said, his tongue twitching. "All was going according to Dark Lord's plan-" His tone cut off from a sudden choking around the neck. The already red, face of plump, disfigured Moody grew red and red until it burst out- like a popped grape, spilling red juice all across the room.

"What-" Harry said horrified.

"It seems that the goblet is aware of such trickery and has dealt punishment as seen fit." Dumbledore's brows were knit together in concentration. "Well done, Harry." He said as he cast cleaning charm in the entire area.

"Well, after three years professor, its kinda obvious, really." Harry said laughing and scratching his head. "Besides, as long as you are here, no one can do anything Professor Dumbledore! You beat that Voldemort and I can help! And someone can-"

"Why, don't you go off to your dormitory? Your friends will be most anxious to see you are all right." Dumbledore interjected.

"Ok Professor!" Harry said brightly. Harry dawdled off, hearing something about checking the other contracts or some things like that. The last thing he heard when the door was about to close was something about checking with the ICW and the Ministry.

He wasn't bothered in the least. Resisting the urge to cackle, he chose to whistle a jaunty tune of Harry Potter theme song.

* * *

A/N: I've based Mistrall's character from the Metal Gear Rising. Leave a review!


	4. First Meetings

A/N: Turns out I had already written this a while ago and the PM of FandomHope prompted me to write some more. The next one will be the last chapter and there will be a lot of loose ends. I do like a story which ties up nicely and the plot of this story is something I'd read if anyone wrote it in detail. Seriously, I like to think on behalf of all the FF viewers, the we like new plot-twists and what-not!

* * *

"The graves of my Grand-parents lay inside the manor." Harry phased in, besides the two figures. As expected, they didn't show any outward reaction. Their hands didn't even twitch. "You look well, Gellert." Harry commented, giving him once over.

"Prison has done me good." He replied back, looking at the boy. This was Lord Peverell? He couldn't understand. But then again, stranger things had happened. That apparition trick was a unique one to begin with.

"Your Grand-Parents were Peverell's?" Madam Mistral asked, neutrally.

"They were Potters. Peverell's descendants. Lots of people claim them to be their ancestors." Harry commented off-handedly, "But few can show proof of it." Harry took Mistrall's hand and kissed her in greeting. His right hand lay comfortably on her left and Harry could sense she was really out of shape and form.

Did prison time dissuade her from the dark ambition in her heart? Harry wondered.

Her eyes trailed down to his ring-finger taking in the Peverell's coat of arms, and the large silver ring on his finger.

Harry turned to Gellert, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Gellert."

"Likewise, Lord Peverell." Gellert said in a slightly sarcastic tone. The clouds rumbled above, giving a brief illumination of light. His hands stilled in greeting as he saw something utterly terrifying in that moment. Something that only a wielder of a Deathly Hallow could see and comprehend the vastness of it. A thing inside looking at him with hallowed eyes.

Gellert was quick to gain his composure but not before a small acknowledgement to him.

"The mansion stood strong till the last war. It withstood quite a few attacks from your forces, Gellert." Harry said, unconcerned and ignorant of sudden change in Gellert's composure.

Grindallwald frowned, not seeing the Death-Stick in his hands.

"That is until, Voldemort-" Harry had his holly and phoenix feather wand out, making few circular motions and the ward dispelled the slight distorted image, now showing the exactness of damage. "Destroyed it with fiendfyre. Amazing how a little spell can cause defensive wards to corrupt and implode." Stones lay, half-burried in the ground and overgrown grass all around. The site was uncared, and in ruins.

"Welcome to Potter Mannor." Harry opened the gates and turned towards them, welcoming them. "Shall we?"

* * *

DARK WIZARD TOURNAMENT- HAS THE GOBLET TURNED DARK?

I unrolled the paper to this interesting headline in the Daily Prophet. Well, well Dumbledore. I say in my mind, taking a sudden tone and voice of one Severus Snape. I shit self-fulfilling prophecies out. What have you got to say about that, hah! I cheered in my mind. Best not broadcast that thought, I thought. The old coots had a way of twisting everything and anything. 'You are a paradox Harry! In all of time and space, you are the focal point of death and destruction. For the Greater Good of the universe, you must die..er… sacrifice yourself lest the universe collapse on itself.

Didn't he just do that with the lil' old me back then. Worse, he used my parents to do it. What if I had just died or whatever when the curse hit? Not the train station not anything like a limbo? Would then Dumbledore realize what a clusterfuck his whole plan had been? I'm not really sure.

I shook myself, not wanting to go through that brooding angsty phase. Instead I breathe the morning fresh air, and the fear from Great Hall and rejoice in feeling the freshness of it. Now, don't start comparing me to a Dementor just yet. It felt so great to look the chaos right in the eye and not being affected by it one little bit.

Unlike my house-mates and well, the entire school really going bi-polar, I felt more relaxed than I had like forever! I had burst in the common room last night and saw every single one of them in there! Everyone! From little firsties to seventh years, near the fire-place, shaking in fear! And I like to take pride in me, that is the Ickle' Harry Potter, when his name had come out of the goblet. I wasn't scared shitless like _that _back then. A little bit, but not full blown panic attack like they were having!

Ha!

I spun a great story about Dumbledore being scary powerful and taking care of everything including me helping taking care of Voldemort! It was funny to see the relief and the fear simultaneously due to the mention of the 'V' word. The feathered trio wanted to seek comfort and I, un-surprisingly had a great time giving it to them.

Hehe!

* * *

The evening news had arrived and with it the most sensational news he could ever witnessed. The truth was out. Dark lords from all across Europe had escaped and now, they were nowhere to be found. All the attention will be now focused on Great Britain, wondering, thinking and judging them.

What would they do in the face of great darkness? Unfortunately, or fortunately Harry knew the answer.

Barely two weeks in the whole debacle, there was a unanimous agreement to cancel the tournament, Cornelius looking like a lost puppy playing fetch to Dumbledore's every command. That is until they wrote down the decision into a piece of parchment and into the goblet.

The goblet threw the parchment out, immediately reaffirming its hold on _every_ magical contract in this tournament. Dumbledore didn't dare say, in his grandfatherly tone, 'The Goblet has accepted the descision.'

No, Bartemous Crouch connected the dots immediately and let it out for everyone to hear. All the ministries participating in the tournament would lose their magic if they cancelled the tournament.

Turnabout is a fair play and Harry wanted to say in that same grave voice as he had been told.

_The contract is binding. Once the champion is selected he must compete._

With two weeks, near the start of December, it was absolutely clear that the ministries had to _let_ the champions to compete. To _let _them enter Hogwarts and provide them stay. Any attempts made on their person would result in most painful death.

When your own magic was on the line, the shit just got real!

It came to a head on the first of December, twenty days short of the first task. With public calling heads of the ministry employees and the heads still trapped in the convoluted mess of bureaucracy, it was agreed that Dumbledore would protect the children from Gellert Grindalwald while French ministry would provide copious aurors to combat the threat of Madam Mistral.

The delegations hadn't gone home in a surprising turn of events. There was a lingering fear that they might be attacked going back home and since well _Dumbledore_ was here and that was enough for them to acquiesce, at the moment.

Surprisingly, Dumbledore hadn't approached Harry once, or said anything about anything. All that led Harry to believe that he didn't give a shit about him, anymore. Really, he was mostly ignored, regarding everything and it suited him fine.

* * *

Peter Petigrew clenched the paper tightly and shivered simultaneously as read the headlines. Shivering had to do with variety of reasons but none relating due to cold. There was something deeply hurtful in knowing the inevitable curse which would cause him great pain when he would deliver the news to his master.

Ever since Halloween, they had no contact with 'their' man inside Hogwarts, and the auror patrols had increased all throughout the Magical Britain. But he had managed, and now had he had a bundle wrapped in rolls up his sleeves.

"M-My Lord." Peter squeaked, already feeling the cold fear settling in his bones. "I-I have new information." His pitch rose several notches at the end.

Voldemort, despite being a baby, snatched the papers and began reading up. Peter had expected many things, scream of rage, a lot of curses but the quietness somehow was even more frightening than anything he had ever experienced.

"Wormtail." Voldemort hissed with displeasure. He really gave more emphasis on the word 'Worm' than his whole name, showing exactly what he was to him and Peter could do nothing about it. The only sign he was enraged was the shaking fists as he put down the bunch of it. "Take me to The House." His red eyes pierced Petigrew did what he knew best. He obeyed.

'So it has come down to this.' Voldemort thought. 'Using up my anchors to immortality.'

* * *

"My wand… Wormtail." His voice was silky and oddly polite. Peter couldn't really tell what had happened inside the house as he had turned tail and ran out at the sight of snakes everywhere. His eyes were the most frightening aspect of his body and they still, were the same kind. "Let us see what the fuss is all about hmmm."

Peter got another chill up his spine from the confident way his Master said it. He was no longer irritable or plain hateful but different. He couldn't tell if he was asking or ordering him but Peter chose to ignore that kind of thinking. He didn't wait to find out.

* * *

"This wand… Seven and a half inches, is it?" Harry walked up to his shackled girl. Her arms were tied up high and devoid of any clothes.

"With a Dragon-Heartstring core." Sophie said softly, wondering where he was going with this.

"And this wand fits you well?" Harry asked seductively coming closer.

"Ofcourse."

"Let us see." Harry said, holding sleek his wand and the wand started to vibrate. "Hold this tight for me will you?" Harry said, letting the wand wander down her body. Our resident Hero was having a great time with a popular catch-phrase of Olivander's 'Does this wand fit you well?' with the French Delegations.

* * *

A/N: Yes, that was a tribute of Fifty Shades of Grey. Did you know that movie's rating in France is "Above 12 years of Age?" Hilarious.


	5. The First and Last Task

**A/N:** Thank you all who have reviewed. Got necessary motivation to finally finish this today!

* * *

Barely a week left in the first task, which had now changed from battling a dragon to a Duel between all four champions, came the entry of the two champions.

The doors of Great Hall opened and a bunch of aurors rushed in, settling in formation around all students. Teachers rose up, all taking out there wands ready for any and all threats. Gellert and Mistral walked in chatting casually and stopped at the Great Hall's entrance.

You could taste the tension in the air, like humidity; bearing down on everyone as they waited what they would do, what everyone would do. Slytherins watched in quiet anticipations how the two Dark Lords would move forward, figuratively and literally.

Dumbledore stepped down, looking like a warrior meeting his enemies before a great battle. There wasn't even a hint of weakness on him. But before he could reach them, Harry strode forward being the quiet innocent boy that he wasn't.

"Hello there Mr. Grindwald. I am the Hogwarts Champion." Harry's voice reverberated through the walls. He could hear his own voice back. Gellert smiled amused at seeing Harry Potter being so meek and childish. Dumbledore hurried forward, mistaking Gellert's intention.

"The three girls are under my protection." Harry blurted out, pointing at them, "And Miss. Delacour as well." Harry made a vague gesture with his hands, saying 'There! I said it.'

"Ofcourse Mr. Potter." Gellert smiled condescendingly. "No harm shall come to them by me in any form _whatsoever." _

"Ohh. And the French delegation too." Harry said to Mistral.

"Ah. Missur Potter. Won't you reconsider? They look so delicious when frightened." She said smacking her lips.

"Well." Harry rubbed his legs on the floor. "In exchange for Malfoy and Snape?" Harry pointed with his right hand at the far side of the corner, mischief clear on his face. Pandemonium broke, for various reasons but before it could truly spread, Dumbledore spoke in, above all the noises.

"They will not be harming any students, here." Dumbledore said with a steely tone. "You needn't fear, at all."

"Albus! I see time hasn't been your friend." Gellert's hearty voice spread through the Great Hall.

"And it has for you?"

"Perks of being a Dark Lord. You had your chance, Albus but it seems you chose… poorly." Gellert mocked, spreading his hands in a grand fashion.

"Sometimes, we have to choose between what is easy and what is right." Albus said immediately.

"You think being a Dark Lord is an easy task?" Gellert said shocked at the sentiment. "Anyways, where is the third one? Voldemort was it?"

"Alas, he has been dead since thirteen years." Albus smiled serenely.

"Well, you may never know with us Dark Lords. Rising from dead, surviving the impossible, all part of the package." Gellert said easily. "Three wrongs don't make right, but in this case, three dark lords rule the world!" Gellert gave a hearty laugh, but it didn't sound hearty to any other person in the room. The first battalion of spell fire came but just before impacting them, they all collapsed on the ground, dead.

"The Goblet is protecting us champions." Madam Mistral spoke quietly. The reality set in, with everyone present there, that they were, if only for a short while, untouchable. As the Bartemius Crouch had said.

"Same for every student and teacher in Hogwarts." Dumbledore warned them back.

"Will see you again at the first task. In the meantime, why don't you make sure that those minions of yours don't get excited with their wands, hmm?"

With that, the two dis-apparated from the Great Hall.

* * *

"Harry. What were you thinking?" Dumbledore's genial voice broke the nostalgia Harry was lost in. The office was different than Harry remembered. The modifications Hermione had later added were surprisingly useful except for that large oil painting of her beastly cat- Crookshanks, which lived well into her age as far as Harry could remember. This looked like a stripped down version, containing only the basic functions.

Hermione had added an escalator where the steps were and the furniture was polished and clean. This looked like a bachelor pad compared to what Hermione had made into.

"Well." Harry shuffled his feet and looked down. "I felt like I should've done something Headmaster. I mean you are already dealing with so much and people expect much from you. It's not fair Professor." He said looking up.

_You are old, weak and no longer matter, Dumbledore. It is time that I stepped in and handled things for you. _

"That is quite noble of you, Harry." Dumbledore's face softened. "It is fortunate that the champions cannot kill each other." His tone reflected otherwise. It was extremely un-fortunate that champions couldn't kill each other. That was a thing with the people who were twisted. They did not trust, they did not bow and they killed without remorse. While this was not, in any case ideal the circumstances left a lot to be desired.

"You must be careful now, Harry. It is likely that you will be paired with Voldemort. You must be ready Harry. You can defeat him, like you did in your first year. It is unfortunate that this tournament has been tampered with but, I have full faith in you."

Harry noted his repeated use of 'unfortunate'. Harry knew, that Dumbledore had every intention of letting those two battle. He was still hung up on prophesy.

"But… What can I do professor? How can I defeat him? Can the real Professor Moody help learn how to attack?" His question was innocent, only to the listener's ears. To him, however Dumbledore's answer would only confirm what Harry had long suspected.

"Alas, Harry. You cannot defeat him by spells alone. But," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled "You already have the power to defeat him."

"Is it love?" Harry concealed the distaste in his mouth as Dumbledore smiled, nodding his head in affirmation. "Alright Professor. Have a good day." Dumbledore watched his prized student leave with a gentle frown on his face. It was not like Harry to accept his answer so easily, without any quarrel. "Remember Harry. Friends are the greatest power one can gave at trying time."

He wasn't even making any sense anymore.

* * *

"Harry! Oye Harry!" Harry dodged a tenth attempt by someone, presumably Gryffindor to bring them under protection. And for every no he said, he had a wonderful excuse.

"Hey mate. What do you want?" He would begin politely. The best part was watching Weasleys smile nervously yet, with confidence in them. Of course Harry would protect them!

"Please bring me under your protection!" The Weasleys had said something similar lines.

"Mate, I'd love to." Harry had responded, watching the instantaneous relief it had brought on the boy's face just as it had done for the Weasleys. "But Dumbledore interrupted what I was going to say to Mr. Grindlewald and now I don't know where he is. So until he's back can't help you mate."

Plus there was a really long line in waiting. It was only luck that Weasleys hadn't questioned why Harry had put the girls in it and not them. Well, they couldn't really was about it when those three beauties were showing love to him for it now, could they?

* * *

"Potter." Harry turned around in the direction of sound to find a gang of Slytherins. The leader of the group was, surprisingly not Malfoy. It seemed that the snakes had shunned Draco and their head of house. Truly, when it came down to saving your own skin, Slytherins knew best.

"Good evening, Miss Greengrass." Harry said, adjusting his round spectacles. "Come to wish me luck on tomorrows duel?"

"Ah. Yes, that too." She adjusted her posture easily and cleared her voice. "Good luck, Potter." Harry could tell she was making a supreme effort to calm herself. "What will it take Potter? To get you to protect us?" She said clearly. Her strategy was well thought out and for a Slytherin that was saying something. Asking something directly was never the way of the snakes. They were used to negotiating with leverage. Here, they could only hope to offer something of value in return that would appease Harry Potter to accept them too.

Harry pushed his glass upwards and light reflected off the glass. There was a sly smile on his face that didn't belong there.

"Bring your parchment and we can negotiate a suitable contract that your fathers might approve." The group, took a step back seeing for the first time the predatory look on his face.

Nott, Greengrass, Zabini, Parkinson and many more couldn't believe what they were seeing. This was not the Harry Potter they thought they would deal with. This boy was someone else entirely.

"Go on now. Off you pop. I haven't got all day." Harry said, seeing them scuttle back as fast as they could, maintaining proper decorum as much as they could.

* * *

"Harry! Harry wait up." Hermione caught up to him. "Harry. How are you?"

"I am fine." Harry said, with a slight curl of lips. "How are you?"

"Harry. It's just everything has happened so fast. Have you talked to Sirius about this?"

"Yes, we have talked." Harry replied. It had been an amusing talk, Sirius going mad with worry and Harry watching him, amused.

"Harry, do you need any help?" Hermione continued seeing his blank expression. "I know I don't know much compared to… to _them. _But I can teach you all I know." _Because you don't know anything. _That left unsaid.

"Trust me, Hermione." Harry said with a smile, "I'm quite ready to face them." That's what he had said to Sirius.

"No you're not!" Hermione exclaimed. "Harry. They… They are a league of their own. Harry. Dumbledore had a hard time defeating Grindlewald."

"Trust me, Hermione. I'll win." Harry said, with a strained smile. He had the same talk with Sirius, except her was just scorn. A whole lot of scorn.

"Since you are the greatest wizard born in the world?" Hermione said sarcastically.

"Yes. I am." Harry said authoritatively and walked away.

* * *

The day of the tournament was upon Great Britain and by the unanimous agreement of the three countries, so were all the aurors gathered here for protection. All Harry could see was the endless lines of black colored robes, with various ministry symbol etched on their chest.

Gellert and Mistral apparated besides Harry and the crowds suddenly went silent. It was funny seeing them go all quiet. It was strange that they'd even be there, the audience. But, Harry had given in to all the pleas and let some more people in. Coincidentally, there was a faction in Hogwarts who wanted nothing to do with Harry Potter's protection. And that faction had gotten considerably large since the Dark Mark had finally gotten… _dark. _

Harry figured out quickly that they were in cahoots with Voldemort or had, by their family connections established connections with the other two. Suddenly, it had become a power play, each party establishing their own power. Harry had the largest, but the shortest one in contracts, all amounting to the duration of tournament.

Gellert was in lead, with most of discontent families supporting him to take over as soon as the tournament got over. Voldemort, Harry suspected was second from the large families of Britain. Of all the people in the world, the French were the level-headed people. They had thoroughly rejected Madam Mistral and pinned all hopes on the Government.

The two champions, Gellert and Mistral were casually looking over the Quidditch pitch where, it was decided, the duel between the four champions would be conducted. Gellert would look at Kakaroff on and off, not letting him be comfortable where he was seated. Mistral was busy looking at Maximoff bemusedly.

The brightness seemed to dull momentarily as a black apparition landed besides the pair of two. Harry looked over the stands to see the suppressed smirk of many figures. Nott, Malfoy, Parkinson and more of them whom Harry had never seen or met. Albus Dumbledore descended down the stage, to greet the fourth champion.

"At Tom. You are here as well." Albus seemed sad, yet accepting. He had hoped that one of them wouldn't be able to make it and had their magic taken away. He had realized how troublesome the magic binding was. His whole life he had the comfort and luxury of being able to magic away problems and suddenly, that very thing was on the line.

"My name is LORD VOLDEMORT!" Harry saw his eyes flashed the reddest he had ever seen as he launched a spell in the air. The green light morphed into a well-known, feared snake coming out of the skull. The Dark Mark.

"Cute." Gellert commented, waving his hand with the wand in his hand. There was no light visible but the green hallow of snake gulped down the skull it was coming out of and consequently itself. Voldemort, sized up Gellert and he, Gellert returned a wrinkly eyed smile. "You should represent all the characteristics of snakes if you like them that much, T- er… Voldemort." The last word was said lightly, as if daring him to do something about it. "Snakes quite often, in hunger eat themselves up." The snake had by the time, ate itself and was a very small circle and poofed out of existence. "The only true symbol to live through an eternity is only… THIS!"

Harry hid a smile seeing the triangle representing the Deathly Hallows in a golden light illuminating the night sky.

"You men and your symbols." Mistral grumbled but did nothing further. Harry was inclined to agree with Mistral.

"It looks beautiful, Mr. Grindlewald." Harry said politely, drawing attention of Voldemort on himself.

"Ah. Yes. Let us move forward with the selection."

"Yesss." Voldemort interjected giving a smile. Dumbledore moved quickly, coming in between the four of them. Gellert didn't miss Dumbledore moving out his wand from Grindlewald's view.

"The first match will be between Gellert Grindelwald and Madam Mistrall." Dumbledore said, squeezing Harry's shoulder and moved back to the podium.

* * *

Harry had expected for Tom to make small talk to him but it seemed Voldemort was more interested in giving him 'The Stare.' Harry had to admit, he was a bit startled at the intensity of it and a little afraid. Sure he had dueled exceptional wizards after Voldemort but deja-vu had kicked him making him a bit uncertain about his own powers.

It had the same intensity of a grown pedophile looking at small kid and yet, at the same time had an intensity of a serial killer eyeing its next prey.

Quickly, he suppressed that emotion leaving him devoid of any, and adjusted his glasses. He had the Goblet on his side, after all.

Harry glanced in his direction and then pushed his glasses upwards. The light reflected off the glasses and all Voldemort could see was the smile. There was something different about this Voldemort, something more patient that made Harry salivate in anticipation of what he would dole out in a duel. He couldn't wait for his turn.

Harry chose to focus on the fight which was rather interesting. Mistral was using conjured golems with that had three legs and had the power to explode, pushing projectiles at the target. Gellert was busy defending himself using a complex ward that Harry was very interested in knowing. He pushed his glass upwards and a variety of runes were now visible to him.

It took only a second to analyze the structure and a smile lit up on his face.

"No. Don't go near him. It'll blow up. Ahh. Bad move." Harry said softly, seeing Mistral elongating her weapon to use it to impale with. As Harry had assumed, it did blow up, flinging her up but somehow, she managed to land on her feet.

But, Harry could see Gellert now going on offensive and he knew, that she had lost the upper hand. No one could beat him when he went an offensive. Harry knew she had a good strategy and the fight did continue for the better part of an hour.

* * *

"The next match will be, between the Hogwarts champion- HARRY POTTER and TOM RIDDLE also known-"

The parchment from which Dumbledore was reading combusted spontaneously, leaving only the word, LORD VOLDEMORT on it. Harry could see the ashen expression Dumbledore had on his face, as if, he was revisiting some ghost of past memories.

"As Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore said, quietly. "Participants are reminded that killing will lead to goblet dealing out punishment of the extreme order."

Harry walked silkily down the stairs down towards the ground. On his right, Voldemort did the same. Harry could feel the intensity of the stare, as if Voldemort was trying to slither towards his prey while it being unaware of the degree of the danger. Harry stared back right at the red eyes, his green one's not looking where he was going.

He didn't like to do a stare-drive and the grossness of the situation showed on his face. Voldemort, thinking he had sufficiently cowed the boy down broke the eye contact and made a final one with Albus Dumbledore.

'Look at you, you old man. Powerless to do anything while he walks in the gallows.' Voldemort's figure conveyed. 'There are worst things than death.' Red eyes met twinkling blue and Dumbledore resolutely replied back.

'Prophesy will play itself out.' Dumbledore broke the eye contact with Voldemort, and met the green eyes of the prophesied boy. Harry, amused himself to the idea of how accepting the Judges were, especially Dumbledore of this whole idea. And now that the three primary colors had met each other, all three looked forward to the stadium.

Every one was playing their own game. The ministries, Dumbledore and the Champions. Everyone was relying on the power of an ancient artifact. Harry had to marvel at the notion of this. The Goblet, indeed was capable of keeping everyone in line. Everyone was sure of its power it could assert over the people which had signed contract with. He took one last look at the stands taking in various spectators seating casually, full of anticipation of the ensuing battle while others to gloat over an innocent boy about to fight with their Dark Lord.

No one clapped. Harry wasn't bothered in the slightest. The turned behavior of Voldemort had made him cautious. 'Perhaps this is what he wants. This is what he wants the people to know and understand. That he is no mad megalomaniac. He is not insane. That commands respect of the people with his fearful persona. Interesting.'

The bell rang but no spell fire broke out. Voldemort was standing still, poised to attack and yet, he was looking at the boy, curious at what he would do. Harry's two fingers split apart, holding the wand between them the thumb gently holding the bottom half at the end of his palm.

"You will die here boy." Voldemort hissed.

"We shall see." Harry hissed back, amused at the first word out of Voldemort's mouth. Voldemort started with a stunner, adding a green light to it. It was not difficult to do when you had an intimate understanding.

"Portego." Harry lazily flicked his wand, a partial dome springing out at a moment's notice. Voldemort fired three quick spells in quick succession. Harry deflected one, and blocked two others. They were simple enough, but it ages to set one's pace to deflect spells coming at you in succession- Something that Harry had it in plenty.

Voldemort gave his wand a swirl and a green light spiraled out heading towards Harry.

"Ingenious." Harry whispered, seeing the thirty degree out of phase a simple spell had been cast, which could slip past a blocking spell.

"Portego." Harry swished his wand, adding another layer with a downward, counter-clockwise motion. The spell and the shield disappeared leaving behind a hum of magic. Voldemort's eyes widened and straightened his posture. Harry slid his spectacles up, with his two fingers and a smile on his face.

"Now we're talking." Harry said and the both began the duel in earnest. Lights flinging everywhere and Harry counted atleast a dozen similar spells that would've snapped his wristbone in two, straight till the shoulders. He had two cutters taken to the chest, which had passed through the shield.

He hadn't expected this to be a clear cut win, for him but, he was slowly getting in form. The battle shifted to elemental spells and from the audience point of view, all they could see is fire, water and ice go back and forth but clearly, Voldemort had the upper hand. He was vicious and unrelenting. He knew suddenly, what was at stake. This boy was a master in dueling and he wasn't going to hold back one bit. He swung the wand over his head, creating a bowl deep crater where Harry stood. With his left hand, and the simultaneous swirl of his wand, lava rushed through the ground filling up the crater.

The audience had now stood up. Had Voldemort killed the boy? If he had, how was he still performing magic? Could it be that the Dark Lord had conquered the Goblet itself? Voldemort's left hand was still raised, channeling the lava like a whirlpool. No one knew what was going on but Voldemort could sense Harry in there with his hand with aid of magic.

An eighty percent burns on his body would suffice, wouldn't it? He thought. He still wouldn't have killed him but it was as close to a death, Potter brat could get due to irritable constraints.

The lava decreased, suddenly. Like someone had unplugged a sink, letting the water drain out. Harry Potter stood in the center letting the sphere of lava around him disappear. There was no evidence that lava had been there a second ago. It was now, a normal crater.

The audience had stood up, and so had the other two combatants. They were cheering for Harry Potter but the voice couldn't be heard by the participants in the field below. Voldemort rose up earth extending upwards beneath his feet as he looked down at the Potter brat who was oddly competent.

Harry took out a dragon-hide glove and wore it on his right hand. He took his time, moving his fingers so that the glove fit comfortable and his wand wouldn't slip out of his hand. The wands would heat up now that Harry would go on the offensive. It was equivalent of nuclear radiation, only the wands channeled heat of an inordinate amount of time. The half-life was around a year to two. Basically this wand would be useless after this battle.

Harry forced his hand down, changing the face of the pitch. The pitch levelled down, brown color everywhere instead of lush green.

'I ain't fixing that up.' Filch muttered from the stands eyeing the now falling Voldemort.

Voldemort descended softly standing still on the ground. Harry fired back, spell after spell in the exact order Voldemort had, only in reverse. He completed his combo with a dual attack of fire and lightning.

"Come on Tom. Get up." Harry said seeing the fear on Voldemort's face, along with burn marks from fire and lightning. He wanted to battle a monster. He would bring that out in him. That animal who would fling out spell like its survival was on the line. He wanted to test his limits and he would not be denied.

Voldemort's eyes lingered on the glove that Harry wore and Harry could see the desire clear on his face. The heat from the wand was slowly becoming unbearable.

"Alright boy!" Voldemort hissed out, words as cold as ice. "You want to test MY MIGHT!" Fiendfyre blinked into existence, like a levitated rope obeying his master's wishes. It was the testament of his skill and magical prowess that he could control that mad-sentient fire like no one else. Snakes of various size flicked into existence, all made of fiendfyre in various shades of yellow and green. The wards destabilized instantly and the roar of audience rushed through the vacuum.

POTTER POTTER POTTER! The chant that had begun died out seeing the massive bassilsk of fire. It was truly monstrous. Legions of snakes surrounded Voldemort and everyone of the snakes as hot as the sun itself! Harry's eyes widened and the anticipation of the coming bout made his heart pump blood all the more faster.

"YOU ARE NO MATCH, FOR THE MIGHTY ROAR OF GRYFFINDOOR!" Harry roared out, adrenaline magically enhancing his voice. A red, orangish Nemean lion sprung up, from behind and legions of small lions and they all roared out.

The audience went mad, none too many now questioning the power of the skill the Wizarding Savior had inherited. He was their savior he was the one who would defeat Lord Voldemort. The yell and excitement burst through everyone's mouth, spewing forth noisy, confusing words of encouragement and shouts. They all had stood up, so had the judges panel. The event, as if choreographed by some diving entity played out, and the lions and the snakes intermixed for a violent final confrontation!

The green and red dispersed and an eerie quiet broke over the entire stadium, only broken by a pained shout by someone. A hot red wand lay on the earthen floor, which now, at the end of the battle and converted to glass like substance. Harry fired a single spell, which let out a single arrow up in the sky and Voldemort could do little to dodge it without any means left to defend. The arrow split in several thousand and pierced Voldemort all throughout his body.

Harry let his wand slip on the ground and took off his dragon-hide gloves. With a final wave of his hand, he forced Voldemort's body to rise up to the very top giving an illusion that he, Voldemort was sleeping on a bed made of arrows.

"How…" Voldemort asked in a pained whisper. "How did you defeat me, boy…!"

The judges came down, Dumbledore leading down to see Harry whispering something in Voldemort's ear. Seeing the outrage on Voldemort's face, he had a burning desire to know what Harry had said. Harry left the glove on Voldemort's chest and faced the judges.

"A splendid battle, Master Harry." Gellert said.

"Thank you, Mr. Grindelwald. Onto the next round then?" Harry asked facing the judges.

"Ah, yes." Dumbledore said visibly suppressing the torrent of question he wanted to ask to Harry Potter. "The next round will begin in five minutes."

"Ja. I do not think dat vill be necessary, Albus." Gellert said giving Potter a meaningful look. "I vish to call the match a tie. I do not think the stadium can vithstand any more damage should we, uh, go all out."

"Yeah." Harry said sheepishly, shaking Gellert's hand. Grindlewald certainly knew he, Harry was now, without a wand and he had cleverly used this to cement his position as equal to that of the Wizarding Savior. Harry could, certainly snatch wand out of Dumbledore's hand but it didn't seem the right thing to do, letting Dumbldore in on anymore of his secrets. He'd replace that wand with another when the time was right.

'Meh.' Harry shrugged off a small loss. He was feeling generous after all.

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A/N: That pretty much sums up this story. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I was stoked, writing this. There are a lot of loose ends, some of which I plan to tie up in an epilogue. If I manage to get around it that is. :-) I would love to see a full length story based on this one. Leave a review on your way out! Bye!


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